Era of War
by Majestic War
Summary: [2nd Book in the Legends of Thalomir Trilogy] One-shot. Valdus Bloodbane was one of the new recruits in the army, and the four day Second Great Wizard War was sparked. Something's off, though. And Valdus knows. He decides to delve deeper; trying to figure out what's going on before time runs out. Make sure to review!


**Majestic: Hellloooooooooo everyone! In case you didn't know, this is a prequel to DASR, called Era of War, or EoW. EoW is the direct sequel to the pre-prequel I am working on which will be titled Legends of Thalomir, or LoT. Yes, this is a trilogy, and EoW is a one-shot. It tells the story of Talon's father, Valdus. Although it really has nothing to do with Talon. Not really. Also! In case you did NOT know, since this is a prequel, and Valdus and his friend fight Ambrose, (SPOILER...) and Ambrose dies, Ambrose is NOT featured in DASR. EnJoY! (I ruined your day with that spoiler, didn't I...D:) **

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**Era of War**

_"'Magic._

_The mere thought of it would never have existed on places like Earth, but places beyond that, galaxies akin to that of the Spiral, magic exists. Magic is the foundation of the Spiral itself, and manifests itself in a number of races-the first race to originate: Titans, colossal dragons that governed the galaxy itself, destroying, preserving, and recreating; and then humans, who contained large replenishable pools of mana. Along with humans came the dragon-like race-Draconians, and the humanoid cow, bear and dog races, each from their own world-Mooshians, Grizzleheimans and Marleybonians_

_Humans soon rose to power, and their leader, Thalomir, took the mantle of ruler, and governed the galaxy with an iron fist. He was labeled as a cruel tyrant who was feared by all, and revered by none. Thalomir discovered the first secrets of Shadow magic-dark, foreboding magic that he titled Shadow. Thalomir began to create his own brand of magic, combining each and every kind of existing magic to form Shadow Magic, the kind of magic that meddled with darkness, death and decay. Many rising Wizards who practiced Necromancy feared even this new magic. Necromancy had forms of Life magic etched into the formula-that's what it took to reanimate the dead; but Shadow Magic was created from raw, utter darkness. Thalomir's legacy left a grand impact on the Spiral, and many leaders vowed to murder Thalomir and his descendants, angered and repulsed by the king's "unjust" actions. _

_Thalomir did not flee, instead choosing to face the vast amount of warriors brave enough to face him. Thalomir was powerful, but this amount of people wasn't enough. The Decayer merely spread his arms wide, engulfing a vast majority of his opponents in an ebonybubble, tendrils of smoke flowing into the bubble like tentacles, everyone inside the spell vaporized within seconds, turned to dust and swept away with the breeze that managed to find his way inside. Thalomir clenched his fists and grunted, the spell vanishing as quickly as it had materialized. He glanced around, among the piles of raven-black dust were four warriors, two of them Draconians, one human, one Marleybonian. Thalomir recognized them immediately. _

_"__Frase, Jilak..." He would begin to say, pause a moment and greet the others, his rumbling, voice flowing faster than water. "Valkoor, my son...and you-Artur-you dog scum." The four warriors nodded to one another, ignoring the tyrant's greeting. Thalomir pouted incredulously, and continued. "Not going to reply? How pitiful. I thought we were friends." Thalomir then smiled maliciously and smirked as the four fighters charged at him, Frase shouting a battle cry. Darkness literally oozed from his every orifice as he muttered an incantation. _

_"__One battle is not a war!" Frase yelled, frost stemming from her body. "Shed your blood for me, Thalomir!"-_

Valdus sighed and shut the book, yawning. His dark brown eyes watered as he yawned, and he rubbed them tiredly. He'd been up late reading, he noted, as he glanced at the magically engineered alarm clock that floated freely next to him. 23:23, the time read. Oddly enough, the time in the Spiral was the same as the time on Earth-Valdus had done his research. He inhaled sharply. He needed rest-the next day would begin the war, and he was a soldier. A soldier that had been in training for four years. A Master Necromancer. A tyrant. Tomorrow was the day that the "main force" would strike on Dragonspyre. Wizard City had given the world of Draconians enough time to prepare themselves; dragons they were after all. They were dragons, for Heaven's sake! They didn't need _time_to prepare! They were always prepared! Something wasn't right. The war began the next day. But that was too quick. And Ambrose had seemed...off. He wasn't acting like normal-calculating, calm, kind, and quick to act. He seemed to have become incredibly calm, cold, and shrugging off any help. His thinking seemed sluggish. But...

Valdus sighed in exasperation, and collapsed on his pillow, shutting his eyes tightly as if he would die upon opening them. His long, black hair that stretched to his lower back splayed behind his body, and he looked as if he was an angel fitted with ebony wings, descending from above. Slowly, gradually, he drifted off into sleep, thoughts of his ancestor, Thalomir, invading his mind, obscuring all the happiness from his dreams, showing him "the answer." Death was all Valdus dreamt off-blood being spilt on both lines, people screaming in agony, images; visions of himself slaughtering every enemy that stood in his way. And all at once, into his mind drifted the secrets that only Thalomir knew-everything there was to Shadow Magic materialized in Valdus' mind, and he began to shake in his sleep, his body twitching oddly, a sort of froth coming from his mouth. Wildly and uncontrollably, he began to whisper incantations-more of a chant than words, before he was suddenly still, the last of the foam seeping from his mouth, moistening the sheets near his face.

Valdus' eyes suddenly shot open, and he gasped as if he had lost all oxygen in that moment. He clutched at his throat, and staggered out of bed towards the bathroom, tripping over non-existent obstacles, grasping the nearest post to steady himself. Valdus made it to the bathroom, hastily lifted up the also magically engineered toilet seat; almost dropping it on his hand in the process, and retched, watching in absolute and utter horror as thick black bile spilled from his throat into the water. He retched again, more bile escaping. Valdus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, resisting the urge to vomit once more, and splashed his face with frigid water, flushing the toilet, shaking his head and slapping his thigh to ensure that he wasn't still dreaming. Valdus never denied his heritage-he accepted it, in fact. But for this to happen...Valdus began to wonder if this had happened to all who had inherited Thalomir's knowledge. Did any of the books explain anything about the Decayer's descendants?

He glanced at himself in the mirror, making sure he was alright, and began to turn away, before he noticed something, gazing intently at his face once more. In that single moment, Valdus knew that he was descended from Thalomir, and had just experienced something called "Inheritance,"which all of Thalomir's kin suffered from. Inheritance would tell a Necromancer if he was a descendant of Thalomir's or not. Valdus gazed at himself in shock, stunned by the knowledge that fell into place in his mind as if it had been there all along. This happened to all of Thalomir's kin who had inherited his latent power. They gained his secrets. Valdus slapped his face once, and stared at his reflection in the mirror, his eyes locking with the eyes that stared blankly back at him.

Were his eyes always red?

"Wizards of many races and ages." The warlord's deep voice rang out through the crowd of perfectly stationed wizards. Sorcerers strayed in the back of the unit, and would focus on providing support during the ensuing battle. The warlord continued, unfazed by the nervous fidgeting occurring through the crowd. "We fight. Why do we fight? We fight for our country. We fight for what is right-what is just and righteous. We are the wizards of Wizard City. With our strength, the Draconians shall not conquer Dragonspyre!-" The warlord raised his voice, spreading his arms wide, miniature bolts of lightning crackling through his fingertips.

_'__I never knew that our commanding officer was a Diviner..'_ Valdus thought, gazing intently at the magical energy that the commanding officer was showcasing. Valdus glanced away momentarily, straightening his black-decorated with white trim-uniform, and adjusting the four stars on his shoulder to display his rank. His uniform resembled that of the soldiers of a world called Germany that was located on Earth. Valdus had heard stories from his grandfather, Valerian, about Germany and the many battles they'd fought with other countries. Valdus brushed the memories away, and straightened himself, swallowing in anticipation.

"-We will rise against this newfound threat! We will claim Dragonspyre for ourselves! We will bring justice to this world, and celebrate as the tears of God rain upon us! Fight! FIGHT! _FIGHT!_" The commanding officer yelled, his arms raised, the seven stars that he bore gleaming in the blazing light of the sun, his dark violet-yellow trimmed soldier uniform neatly adjusted. A unanimous roar of approval from the young wizards aged between 16-22 resounded throughout the cracked earth of Dragonspyre, and the commanding officer nodded in approval, whirling around, turning his back to the wizards and unsheathing his saber that he had acquired from one of his so-called "expeditions" to Earth. Lightning laced up the blade and he let out a roar, filled with lust for battle, and accompanied by a plethora of various kinds of students, began to charge towards the large fortress that would mark the beginning of the Second Great Wizard War.

Valdus and ten other wizards flanked the centermost spellcasters as they unleashed a magical fury upon the Draconians that charged recklessly. About four Draconians made it past the wrath of the wizards, dodging magical blasts, lightning bolts, fireballs, and spikes of rock as they flew from the ground. Sprinting towards the Draconian, Valdus sent his fist into the creature's face, but instantly reared backwards, his fist stinging with pain, blood forming at his knuckles. He swore under his breath and tried a different approach, sweeping his arm outwards, retreating a few steps as holes in the ground formed, and three hands made of pure bone erupted from the holes, gripping on to the cracked earth of the area, ignoring the small bursts of fire that shot upwards from the cracks between the ground. The skeletons emerged from the holes, brandishing swords with serrated edges and shields worn and dented from previous battles in which Valdus had summoned them. A grin spread across the Necromancer's face, and he spoke.

"Oh, please, don't hurt me, I'm so weak; I have to summon minions to do my bidding," Valdus exclaimed, his voice filled with sarcasm. "Just kidding, dragon. I'm not that weak." That having been said, Valdus thrust his open palm towards the humanoid-dragon, and a large claw formulated from darkness and about four times the size of Valdus' hand erupted from the Necromancer's palm, and shot towards the creature, who had barely any time to dodge as the claw engulfed the Draconian's head.

"Shadow-" was all the creature had time to gasp before the darkness engulfed it and subsequently imploded, vanishing in a matter of minutes. Valdus smirked, and whirled around, pointing to the nearest group of Draconians, glancing at the skeletal creatures he'd summoned. They stared at him, awaiting orders as a devilish grin lined his face.

"I'll race you." He stated, and took off at a sprint, his nimble, bone-made minions following closely behind. This was war. Madness. Blood. Death. Magic. Alliances, treaties, everything that you could possibly imagine. Everything-eventually led to war. A grin spread across Valdus' face as he reached the nearest group of Draconians, leaping into the air without hesitation, Shadow Magic already beginning to spiral from his arm before he drew on his reserves of mana. This was _fun_.

Valdus stood among the carnage of war, flames blazing amongst him, cries of agony and cries of fury reaching his ears, but not his mind. Bones of his summoned minions were littered at his feet, and Valdus spat a wad of blood from his mouth. He panted, staring intently at the dead body of a Draconian that lay beside his foot. Various unanswered questions soared into his head, filling him with doubt. Only then, he began to wonder why he was fighting. For Wizard City, right? For justice, right? For the Gods to praise him one day, right-_No_. Valdus silenced his own thoughts and questions of doubt. There are no gods. He wasn't fighting for Wizard City. That sort of motive was pointless. He wasn't fighting for justice. Justice wasn't real.

"No." Valdus said softly to himself, turning away from the body to face the oncoming Draconian that charged at him, lightning bolts crackling around her-by the looks of it, it was female-exterior. "I fight to find a purpose."

He met her head on, slamming his open palm into the air, inches away from her stomach, a ball of silver flame flying from his palm. It should've injured her, but all for naught, as the spell she'd conjured around herself-most likely a storm shield-vaporized the energy, and Valdus felt his mana considerably drop. Not good. At this point, he was liable to run out of mana at any time, putting him at a great disadvantage. Not favoring to use weapons, Valdus relied solely on his magic and his slightly enhanced physical capabilities in battle. He gritted his teeth, and barely had time to duck as her large warhammer came soaring over his head with unimaginable speed, and suddenly, it was changing direction, flying towards his skull like a bulldozer. She was intent on killing him. Muttering a swear under his breath, Valdus dropped to the ground, and began to roll sideways, nearly avoiding the blows that she sent towards him, her hammer slamming the ground repeatedly, vibrations rocking Valdus' body as he continued to roll. Thankfully enough, his hair didn't get caught on her hammer, or else he would've been demolished.

"Frase acknowledges you, boy." The Draconian spoke, her voice deep, simulating rolling thunder. Valdus narrowed his eyes. Stupid dragons and their moronic codes. Who was Frase anyway?

"Who are you?" Valdus retorted, nodding towards her hammer and the static that seemed to pierce the air around her. Lightning crackled from random, unpredictable directions, and Valdus bent his knees, bracing himself.

"I am Shina Half-blood, paragon of Frase, the Dragon of War and Jilak, the Speaker of Dragons. Age nineteen. I intend to kill all those who try to eliminate my clan and those I am allied with. I do not like to fight children. "

Valdus' eyes scanned her body. She looked more Draconian than human, but at least she was his size. Valdus was confident he could win, but didn't want to underestimate his foe. She was intimidating enough with that warhammer. "Shiner?" He shook his head, knowing he had said her name wrong. "Look, I don't care about all this dragon-clan mumble. I'm fighting for a reason, Shiner. And if you don't want to back off-" Valdus bent his knees further, and prepared himself to rush her. "-then let's get it on!" He yelled, and threw his arm forward as she braced herself, anticipating a hit.

But nothing came. Instead, a ghostly spectre materialized itself behind Shina. It looked quite horrifying, pieces of its body decaying and breaking off, the spectre itself hovering four feet above the dark, chocolate-hued rocks that decorated the terrain. The creature, known only as a wraith to its summoners was swathed in a tattered black garment that resembled a blanket more than it did a cloak. The wraith's skin was a deathly ivory, and it brandished a scythe that appeared as if it could cleave anything in two, and a yellowed set of nasty teeth which seemed to emit pestilence in a two meter radius. Valdus roared, and pulled his arm towards him, signaling the wraith to attack. Right as the wraith lifted its scythe for the killing blow, Shina whirled, slamming her hammer into the spectre's head, knocking the creature to the side. The wraith seemed to skid on air, and growled lowly as it rose once more, and this time, with more speed, swung the scythe in another deadly arc, the scythe itself seeming to glow with the intent to kill. Shina rolled under the wraith, and thrust her hand forwards towards it as she whirled around, confronting it with the utmost confidence. The creature swung, and managed to conjure a deep gash in her side, but she didn't stumble, enduring the pain, controlling the bolt as best she could. The wraith let out a scream of pain as the wild bolt of plasma struck, vaporizing the spectre, causing it to drop its now vanishing scythe and howl once more in agony. The sound lingered in the air, Shina panting on the ground, crouched, as she stared at the pile of dust that was once the wraith. She clutched her bleeding side, ignoring the blood seeping through the cracks in between her fingers.

Valdus gasped for air. He was almost out of mana, and it would take quite a bit of time, food, and rest to replenish it all. He could faintly hear the screams of war and see the fires of war and the sound of magic on metal, metal on magic as his comrades fought around him. Valdus glanced around. They were currently overpowering the dragons, who Valdus presumed were Shina's clan-but something was off. Was Wizard City really fighting to claim Dragonspyre? From the way Ambrose had described the intricate plans, it seemed as if the unit Valdus was assigned to-the main force-was supposed to wipe out every single dragon, not just the dragons that attacked first. But from the looks of things, no one was backing down. Was he really fighting for the right thing? Valdus shook his head to clear his thoughts, spat out a wad of blood, and directed his question towards the dragon, who was gasping for breath on the ground.

"Dragon," He began. "Is that your clan?" He jerked his thumb towards the roaring dragons crushing his comrades that had fought with him once before. Valdus cringed slightly.

"Yes. What use did that question do you, boy?" She replied with a question, her face set in stone.

"I have a name, you know. And I was just wondering." Valdus answered, collapsing on the ground.

"Isn't it a bit dangerous to be resting during battle?"

"I've been defeated. I'm out of mana. What good would fighting do?"

"I can kill you like that." Shina replied, rising to a full stance.

Valdus stared back blankly. "You won't."

Shina towered over him now, her gaze menacing. She raised the warhammer. "And how do you know I won't?" She questioned, her voice half-full of false venom.

"Because you're honorable." Valdus answered softly as she dropped the warhammer a few inches from his ear. He sat up, and stood on his feet, the retreating horn that the army of Wizard City used resounded throughout the battlefield, and Valdus stared in shock. "Until we meet again, dragon!" He called as he sprinted through the trail of chaos that the army had left, Shina's eyes following him. He reminded her so much of Thalomir...

Valdus' long hair blew in the slight breeze as Ambrose addressed each and every soldier in the main force. "Soldiers!" The old man rasped. "You have done an excellent job today, fending off those pests!" Valdus raised an eyebrow at Ambrose's last sentence. "Tonight, we will have a grand feast in honor of your battle! Rest well, soldiers, for in three days time, we fight once more! We leave no Draconian alive-slaughter them all! They are being controlled by an unknown, malevolent force; they need to be stopped! I believe that you all-" Ambrose's eyes settled on Valdus, and the Necromancer gulped. The headmaster appeared to be glaring into Valdus' soul. "-have the power to stop this evil while you still can! Dismissed, wizards!"

With that, each and every soldier murmured something incoherent, and quickly filed out of the commons with great haste, hurrying to the enormous, magical tree known only as Bartleby. Valdus stood stock still in the same position he'd been in, his red eyes locked with the headmaster's pale blue ones. Eventually, Ambrose beckoned for Valdus to follow him.

"Come, boy." The headmaster uttered, and his door creaked as he held it open, Valdus stepping inside cautiously, aware of every single thing in his surroundings.

Though a minute portion of his mana had replenished itself, Valdus knew that he couldn't fight with the headmaster, or probably fight with the items or magical animals and artifacts the headmaster possesed. Even so, the young wizard, stood on his guard, prepared for anything. Valdus felt the powerful Shadow Magic spiral down his arm unconsciously, and he slapped his arm viciously, and when the Shadow Magic continued to whirl down his arm like an ebony funnel, Valdus gnashed his teeth together angrily before sinking his canines into his arm, ignoring the urge to howl in pain. He could've sworn that his arm almost turned into a monstrous claw, but he dismissed it as an illusion. He was glad Ambrose sat in his chair, with the back of the throne-like assist facing Valdus. "You wanted to see me, headmaster?" Valdus inquired, although, it sounded more like, "Phoou whrantked the sehe em hemastuhb?".

Ambrose could interpret what the boy was saying, and whirled around in his chair to address the boy. "Valdus. You seem different." Ambrose raised an eyebrow as Valdus released his left forearm from his teeth, letting it fall to his side.

"Sir-I-I don't understand what you...mean." Valdus pieced together his sentence with mild difficulty. He swallowed in anticipation, his eyes flicking back and forth from Ambrose's eyes to the intricate wood that funneled around Ambrose's staff, crafted from the wood of Bartleby-the strongest magical being in existence.

"Your eyes." Ambrose began solemnly. Valdus wanted nothing more than to gouge out his eyes and throw them on the ground and crush them with the heel of his boot. Ambrose concluded, "Your eyes carry a sudden form of determination. When I first found you, you were afraid." Ambrose chuckled. "You've become strong, Valdus Bloodbane."

Valdus laughed nervously. "Sir..." He began but trailed off.

Ambrose stopped before he swiveled his chair back around. "Yes?"

"The Draconians...are they really all a threat?"

"Valdus, a new force has risen above us. They now command power-hungry Draconians-every last one of them desires power. Every one. We need to put an end to this...conspiracy by slaughtering each and every Draconian within Dragonspyre." Ambrose exclaimed, and Valdus could've sworn that glee was etched into the headmaster's sentence.

"But sir, the Draconians don't seem at all a threat. Lots of them have died. Lots of us have died. This war is pointless, sir; why is it still raging on!?" Valdus inquired, more fiercely this time.

"Valdus, I am the headmaster, and I am ordering you, as a soldier, to slaughter as many as you can! Sacrifices are necessary during war, child!" Ambrose yelled, anger filling his tone, voice echoing throughout the room. "Apologies," Ambrose muttered, and Valdus was unconvinced.

Valdus was silent before he spoke again.

"Sir...Magic that Thalomir created...Shadow Magic...How dangerous is it?"

Ambrose eyes narrowed to a frightening degree, and his voice gathered a fierce venom, his teeth grinding against one another, his pale, gentle blue eyes alight with anger. "How do you know about Thalomir?" Ambrose hissed, his current anger spurred on by his previous spat.

"I read a book about it-sir, I was just wondering-" Valdus was cut off by Ambrose's roar.

"Enough!"

Valdus paused, his eyes wide with surprise. "Sir...?" He began.

"You should know nothing-nothing at all about Thalomir, Shadow Magic, or Warlocks, boy! Leave me at once!" Ambrose shouted, and without waiting for a response, used his knowledge and immense power to throw Valdus out of the now open door, slamming it upon the Necromancer's exit.

"Warlocks...huh?" Valdus muttered to himself as he climbed into bed, pulling the pile of books next to him. Each book was labeled respectively, stacked lazily on top of one another, some falling to the side. Valdus hastily opened the first book titled _Legends of Thalomir_, and with his insatiable thirst for knowledge about the subject, tore through the pages until he reached the chapter titled 'Warlocks.'

_'__Warlocks. _

_Warlock was the official term for practitioners of Shadow Magic. Like Harbingers, Warlocks commonly wear black. These wizards are very dangerous-no, the magic they reign over is very dangerous. Warlocks harness Shadow Magic to the peak of its ability, but even then, Shadow Magic has it's repercussions. Warlocks do not use spells, they become one with the spell. Certain Shadow spells such as 'Shadow Shrike,' and 'Dark Fiend' cause the Warlock to take on the appearance of an otherworldly creature formed of pure darkness, whereas other spells increase the power of the magic itself. Warlocks suffer from an effect known as Backlash. If the Warlock stays in transformation for an extended period of time, the aura that normally hangs over them will appear to become 'angry.' The 'angrier' the aura gets, the more Backlash is received from the spell. Therefore, Shadow Magic is very dangerous, and Warlocks are not to be meddled with.__'_

Valdus mentally noted that the last line was scribbled in with pen. 'Probably someone trying to hide it...like Ambrose,' he presumed. "I need to know more..!" Valdus muttered to himself. "More!"

He threw the book to the side, and snatched another book from his pile titled '_Spells over the Ages_.' Hastily flipping to the back of the book Valdus found a list of Shadow spells and how to practice them, albeit each spell listed was written in a sort of diary format. Valdus shrugged to himself and began to read.

_'__Shadow Shrike is a Shadow Magic spell that I practice daily. It transforms me into a spectre-a wraith-like creature, swathed in darkness, cloaked by darkness, and covered in a shroud of-rudimentarily enough-darkness. It's dangerous and costs much mana, but when used correctly and to the peak of its ability, only a bit of backlash is received and it can be very powerful. _

_Dark Fiend is another Shadow Magic spell that I like. After using a magical hand mirror, I saw how I looked-hideous. But the power that this spell gives is amazing. Unlike Shadow Shrike, Dark Fiend is nimble, swift and gives me so much power..! I could wipe out an army with it!_

_The other spells I have listed the incantations for, but sadly, I have not tried them out yet. I am leaving Wizard City. I want to seek new heights and travel all across the world. Maybe then people will accept me. I think I will make a new world...and call it Khrysalis.' _

_- Morganthe _

Once again, the list, complete with incantations appeared to be scribbled in pen. It couldn't have been written by Ambrose. Valdus skimmed through the list, and resolved to practice each spell tomorrow, as he glanced at the magically engineered clock that floated aimlessly beside his bed as always. 24:08. He needed to sleep. Valdus sighed contentedly, and began to close the book when the signature under the list caught his eye. He stared at it intently, and his eyes widened as he came under the sudden realization that he knew this person. They were almost inseparable for four years, until she left. Everything made sense now.

Morganthe was Valdus' best friend.

Ambrose was restless. He continued to shift within his office, musing and mulling over trivial matters, really. Countless times, his mind returned to the past conversation with Valdus, and the moment when his life was thrown into a tank full of grief and anger.

Yes...The day he lost his family to Draconians. Ambrose had deemed them all power-hungry, and some people would argue that it wasn't even the rulers of the Dragon Haven-the High Archen-the Titans' fault. But they were wrong. It was the dragons' fault. The Titans' fault. He hated them. He despised them. They claimed it to be accidental. Lies. Ambrose clearly remembered when Talik, the Betrayed, slaughtered his family out of pure anger when Ambrose refused his request to allow his young boy to become a Pyromancer and train with Talik. That was the greatest of Talik's misdeeds. Ambrose remembered-vividly-the look of utter horror etched on his wife's face as his son was reduced to a pile of ebony ash in a matter of seconds. He remembered the expression that his wife gave him before she too became nothing but dust. He remembered how he was powerless; his magic was nothing in the face of a Titan. Nothing.

Ambrose's lips pressed into a tight grimace, and sighed. He didn't need to remember this. Not now. Not when the moment of truth was arriving. Ambrose mentally slapped himself.

_Valdus._

Valdus was too eager for knowledge. He knew too much. He presumed that the boy was well on his way to figuring out Ambrose's ambitious ploy, his cruel intents, spurred on by his past hatred for Talik-his hatred for the Draconians, who were all too menacing, all too power-hungry, all too pesky. Ambrose sighed. If only he dealt with the matter more carefully...

_Wait._

Didn't Valdus give hints that he knew who King Thalomir was? Didn't the Necromancer want to know more about Shadow Magic? A smirk played on Ambrose's face. This was excellent. Ambrose could interpret that Valdus would research Shadow Magic. He'd find something eventually-and when he did-Ambrose just knew that the boy would want to practice it. Get stronger.

_Perfect._

Ambrose had declared Warlocks a threat to the world three years before Valdus was born. Which meant that that decree was still in effect in Wizard City. Ambrose had known the leaders of the other worlds would agree, too; Warlocks were feared wizards. In which case-if Valdus studied Shadow Magic-if Valdus was using it in battle-if he was caught-he would be murdered.

Excellent. Ambrose smirked.

_Absolutely perfect. _

Time to rid himself-no-Wizard City-of this nuisance.

Three days was more than enough time for Valdus to practice. He first started with the Shadow Shrike transformation spell, wishing to complete this as soon as possible. He muttered the incantation under his breath, and could feel his body begin to change. Valdus grunted as his right arm mutated, a black substance seemingly crawling up his forearm, stopping and pulsating oddly as it reached his elbow. Valdus grinned. This was it. He'd done it!

Valdus didn't bother sitting still for the address before they stepped into the portal leading to Dragonspyre. He shifted about all the while, even sitting cross-legged while the commanding officer addressed each of the soldiers, continuously shooting disapproving glances at Valdus, who currently was absorbed within _Legends of Thalomir_ to be listening to a morale boosting message. He mused over the Shadow Magic he'd practiced. He was terrible at it; the most he could do was transform his right hand into a demonic claw-but even that drained almost half of his mana. He sighed ruefully.

If only he'd had more time..And even so...something was wrong. Ambrose couldn't have sent Wizard City's army to destroy-

When he heard the anticipatory roar of victory from his fellow wizards, he slipped the book into a bag slung round his shoulder, and stood up, following the wizards as they began to diffuse amongst the Draconians. A Draconian unleashed a guttural roar behind Valdus, and charged him, a broadsword brandished in it's hand. Valdus smirked. "I don't just sit around and practice Necromancy and Shadow Magic all day." The Necromancer thrust his palm towards the advancing dragon, and a fireball shot from his open hand, vanishing upon contact with the broadsword.

"An enchanted broadsword, huh? I don't study other kinds of magic for nothing!" Valdus murmured, and instead chose to roll under the dragon, whirling around and placing his palm on the Draconian's leg. The enemy had no time to react as an electric current raced up his leg, and a muted sizzling sound filling Valdus' ears. The Draconian screamed agony, and its left knee buckled and the creature fell to the ground.

"Sorry," Valdus whispered as he placed his hand on the Draconian's head. He closed his eyes as the bolt of lightning arced through his hand and out through the Draconian's head. Valdus turned away, and headed towards the centermost area of the carnage.

Shina-he remembered her-and four other warriors Valdus assumed equally powerful were smashing wizards left and right-hardly relying on their spells. Valdus watched in utter horror as fifteen of his comrades were struck down by Shina, who was wielding her warhammer with such poise and grace that even the best dancer from Earth wouldn't be able to match. The first wizard, a Diviner-a practitioner of Storm magic-was struck down first. Becoming overly cocky as the lightning bolt he threw appeared to break through Shina's defenses and hit her directly in the stomach, the Diviner dashed towards her, raising his hand-crafted staff as if it were a bludgeon. Right as he swung to deliver the "killing" blow, Shina seemingly revived, and before he could even bring the staff upon her slammed her warhammer into his skull, a soft crunching sound a mere whisper in the roars and cries of those around her. The Diviner crumpled to the ground, life seeping from his body. The next three roared in fury, and began to shower a rain of blazing fire, plasmatic bolts of lightning, and creatures that seemed to have arrived from a storybook. The Diviner, the Pyromancer, and the wizard that conjured the creatures of myth-the Conjurer, a practitioner of a unique magic that allowed the user to creature things from mythical and magical fantasies-viciously attacked Shina, the anger evident in their eyes. Shina simply grunted and aimed her hammer at the sky, a powerful bolt of lightning striking the tip of the weapon, electricity now coursing through it. The wizards hesitated; all the time she needed. In less than seconds, a wave was rising up in front of her, formed from absolutely nothing-and she knew that it was futile, even as other wizards began to join their comrades. The wave now stood over 200 feet high, and it began to descended upon the wizards that stood to face her. Shina didn't even flinch as the wave crashed down in front of her, and the screams of her opponents were drowned out as the water entered their lungs before turning into lightning inside their bodies.

"I thank you, Jilak." Shina exclaimed, and knelt, her warhammer positioned on the ground, her head facing the ground, hands tracing symbols of Draconian prayer in the air before her. She rose, and glanced up at Valdus.

"So we meet again, boy."

Valdus grimaced. "Yeah." Was all he answered with, before he inhaled deeply. He needed to focus. He could win that way. _Or not_. The thought raced through his mind before he even realized that Shina's comrades stood next to her, their glares aimed at him, hatred-presumably for Necromancers-directed at him, and him alone. He was one of the few Necromancers in the war.

"You are filled with doubt and regret. You are not sure who you are fighting for." Shina murmured, and Valdus' eyes narrowed.

"How do you know that?"

"You make yourself too easy to read, boy."

Valdus cursed himself inwardly, before answering coyly with, "I have a name. And you do too-or at least, you should."

"Shina Half-blood, as you should know."

Valdus glared at her. "Stop calling me boy, dragon."

"Stop calling me dragon, _boy_." Shina spat in return, her grimace becoming a glare filled with determination.

Valdus felt his eyes ignite with anger-literally-before he knew what was happening. He growled lowly; an unearthly, animalistic growl, sounding nothing at all human. "My name is Valdus Bloodbane. Remember it-it's the name of the person who will destroy you."

Shina motioned for her comrades to stand down, and they hesitated briefly before racing off towards various other areas to help their own. Valdus spread his arms, and his red eyes flashed brightly as he spoke.

"Your existence is worthless."

Chaos erupted around the duo, and vast amounts of undead rose from the cracked ground, ignoring the lava that separated each and every piece of rock around them. Seven minions so far. More undead materialized; three wraiths, the visage of a screaming woman with hair that jutted behind her and a torn ivory gown, and a green-skinned creature with skin that seemed to peel off with every move-a ghoul. The ghoul brandished a shovel, and spat foul pestilence from its mouth. Shina seemed repulsed, but roared nonetheless, and spread her arms wide as well, lightning crackling around her. Suddenly, Valdus found himself engulfed in a semi-sphere of water; surprisingly, he could still breathe. Bubbles floated up to the surface from an unknown depth, and from the unknown depths that now lingered below him rose a humanoid fish-like creature that bore chrome armor, and a large trident. A triton. Valdus reassured himself that he would win, and commanded his miniature horde of undead to attack, circling around them to run towards Shina, Shadow Magic beginning to take its claim on his right forearm. It was time to settle this. Valdus' last thoughts settled to a drift as he raised his transformed arm, and Shina raised her hammer.

The resounding clang of metal on magic, and the force of the clash threw each off balance, but they both quickly recovered, and ran at one another again, Valdus' arm bouncing off of Shina's now dented warhammer. Shina gritted her teeth, pressing her lips together in a tight grimace as she realized that his own spell was consuming him-the magic had spread from his arm to his shoulder in less than three minutes. Give or take five, in maybe eight minutes, he would be fully consumed and lose control. She had to stop him.

"Stop, boy!" Shina announced. "The spell is consuming you!"

Valdus grimaced as he swiped at her ferociously. "I don't care! I need to find out what's going on!"

Shina raised an eyebrow as she caught Valdus in the side and threw him four feet away, readying herself as he rose again, and threw a ball of white-hot fire at her face, which she merely sidestepped. He was losing mana, and the shadow around him seemed to grow, spinning wildly, flickering and rematerializing out of existence uncontrollably. "Figure out what? What is there to figure out, Valdus!? This is war, not some mystery book where everything falls into place once you gather the correct pieces!"

The spell had now spread to his right hip, leg and partial waist, which gave him some form of enhanced agility, as Shina now noted as he sped towards her, his claw grazing her cheek, ribs, and leaving a deep gash under her eye, something which Shina ignored with a quick healing spell. The two paid no attention to the chaos around them-undead fighting a triton, who merely zapped most of them, reducing them to nothing but golden dust, although the wraiths and the screaming woman-a banshee-had dealt the triton quite a bit of damage, scarring him and demolishing pieces of his armor. Shina continued to fight Valdus, managing to bash her hammer into parts of his body that were consumed-probably breaking bones in the process-but as long as she rid both of them of the Shadow Magic that he possessed, she would be alright. She then smashed one of the blunt edges of her warhammer into the side of his face, tossing him to the side, bracing herself as he recovered almost immediately, ignoring the blood that streamed down his face. He spat out a mixture of saliva and blood, and shook his head before proceeding to dash towards her.

"Don't you understand?" Valdus responded, and Shina hesitated slightly. Mistake, for Valdus then took off every layer of skin and about three layers of muscle as he slashed her ribs, blood splattering on his face. His red eyes glowed as she knelt before him, clutching her injured side. "Wizard City isn't fighting to conquer Dragonspyre! We believe that every single Draconian in the area is a threat, thanks to Ambrose!" Valdus yelled. Shina's eyes widened as realization dawned upon her.

"No..." She began, horrified. Worry coursed through her. Worry for her clan. Worry for all Draconians. She coughed slightly and clutched at her stomach.

Valdus dispelled the Shadow Magic, relief bathing him as he sighed in exasperation. His mana was almost gone, and the triton was vanishing. "Shina. Ambrose has planned this for who knows how long. He's become twisted to a point where he doesn't care anymore. He may have never cared for all I know. This could just be a facade." Valdus held out his hand for her to grab, and when she did, albeit reluctantly, he helped her rise again, and picked up her hammer with some effort, handing it to her. "Listen. We need to stop this. We can't kill anyone else. You with me on this? For your people?" Valdus adde hopefully.

Shina stared blankly, then muttered, "For my people." She grasped her warhammer tightly, and lightning crackled randomly in the space around her. "May Frase bless us both."

"Sure." Valdus answered nonchalantly, watching in amusement as the triton roared in agony and dissipated, and his miniature horde of undead crumbled. "May...Fraiser...bless us both. Whoever Fraiser is."

Ambrose stood a fair distance away from the carnage, observing reluctantly, disgusted by the smell and sight of blood. He scoffed, his pale blue eyes surveying the Draconians, most likely having received newfound power from their blessings. Ambrose glanced, and out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two figures racing towards the centermost area where the fires of war raged on as wizards and Draconians were slain ferociously, brutality, wrath and anger overwhelming the atmosphere. Ambrose glanced back down to where Valdus and the Draconian he was with were, saw the Draconian grab him by the waist, and throw the Necromancer towards him. Ambrose muttered an incantation, and the air in front of him glimmered, as if it wasn't real air, and Valdus eventually figured out why as he crashed into the previously shimmering space, and fell backwards mid-air, descending towards the ground swiftly.

Valdus pressed his lips into a thin line, and, gritting his teeth, flipped and as the air flow pushed him nearer to the rock, pushed himself backwards before hitting the ground, a thunderous crack ricocheting off of the rock that surrounded them; Valdus' mouth hung open in a silent scream of pain.

Ambrose, using his mastery of a unique combination of magic, Arcane, descended from the blunt-tipped peak he had been standing on, his feet brushing against the ground, kicking up dust directly in front of Valdus, who groaned and struggled to roll over as Shina swiftly ran over to Valdus with some hesitation, warhammer brandished in her hand as if she had been holding it ever since she was four.

"Shina, don't..." Valdus began, but she silenced him with a sharp glare, her orange-blond hair flowing behind her from the force of Ambrose's Arcane spell.

"I am an Archmage, girl. I am the most powerful wizard in Wizard City. Don't be foolish, and let me deal with this evil that has consumed this boy."

Shina refused to budge, standing next to the injured Valdus, who silently pleaded with her to run. She twirled her warhammer in her hand, and smartly remarked, "Most powerful? I think that this idiot of a Necromancer-" Shina thrust her warhammer towards Valdus to indicate that she was referring to him and he gave her a bemused expression in protest. "-is more powerful than you." the half-Draconian girl concluded, bolts of lightning crackling around her. Hoping Ambrose wouldn't notice, she knelt down next to Valdus, and began to open his robes.

Valdus' cheeks tinged red and he stammered, "W-what are you doing?"

Ambrose sighed in annoyance and began to mutter an incantation.

"Shut up and let me handle this, boy." Shina answered, and placed her hand on his now bare chest. A soft green light began to course through her hand, and into his chest, pulsating almost warmly. It then dawned on Valdus that she was healing him, and she placed a finger on his lips as he was about to speak. He shot a glare at Ambrose who retreated a few steps. Valdus' eyes widened, and he threw Shina's hand off his chest, ignoring the slight pain that blossomed in his back, and dashed at Ambrose, yelling maniacally, Right _shoulder _fully transformed.

"Only death awaits you, child. You know too much." Ambrose called, before holding his open palm in front of his body. Suddenly, an enormous burst of light shot forth from the older man's open palm, and Valdus crossed his arms in front of his body, but even that was to no avail as he was blasted backwards, a large crater residing where Ambrose was standing; nearly forty giant holes remained where Valdus had been blasted back. Ambrose glanced at Shina. Upon seeing the almost horrified expression on her face, he pointed to a large crater in the rock face opposite him. Valdus stood, head hanging low, arms and legs limp at his sides, buried in a plethora of rocks, blood dripping from his every orifice. Shina glared angrily at Ambrose, lightning crackling around her. She grasped her hammer, and rose from her kneeling position. A smirk spread across Ambrose's face. "You are a fool, girl." He exclaimed, and raised both of his arms menacingly. Air-no-invisible, transparent, translucent-whatever you wanted to call it-magical energy was escaping Ambrose, and drifted off of his body in the form of smoke. The Archmage's eyes glowed an unearthly white, and his mouth began to open and close, words drifting from his mouth, incoherent verses presenting themselves before the confused Shina. Ambrose was gathering magical energy inside of him, and Shina could feel it. He had hardly lost mana, blasting Valdus into the rock. Shina glanced at the rock, and a wave of relief washed over her as she saw the rocks stir, and a dark energy billow through the smoke. But he was still hurt. Wasn't he? She began to unconsciously gnash her teeth together as Ambrose spoke.

"Draconian."

"What?" Shina questioned, confused as to why he was asking her questions in the heat of battle. He could've just vaporized her, turning her back into magical energy in that second. She continued to glare at Ambrose, wondering...just _how_ could a revered teacher do that to a curious student? She just didn't understand.

"Do you like him?" Ambrose questioned, his gaze not exactly locked on her, but she could feel him staring at her intently.

Shina swallowed, and was silent for quite a while. What was Valdus to her? He'd helped her realize what was going on, but even so, he tried to kill her-Shina fingered the wound he'd given her earlier thoughtfully; she still hadn't healed it-and she had tried to kill him. Draconians weren't even supposed to be on good terms with humans. Shina denied her partial human heritage, focusing only on her Draconian side. She wanted to be strong. Like her ancestors before her. Like the Titans who taught her. Valdus wasn't her lover. She didn't like him. She didn't deny his heritage-he was one of Thalomir's kin. But she didn't despise him either. "He's my friend." Shina answered, and inhaled deeply, gripping her warhammer, prepared to fight back when Ambrose attacked. The Headmaster of Wizard City raised his hands, a white light shining, and Shina closed her eyes. _'For Jilak. For Frase.' _She figured those would be her final thoughts, then-

"Stop."

Valdus was alive.

Valdus groaned as he felt his conscious stir inside his mind. What in the name of-what kind of power did Ambrose have? It wasn't any magic he knew, for sure. Definitely not Necromancy, not quite Shadow Magic-not even any kind of magic originating from the Titans, even.

_'__Astral Magic,' _a rumbling, thunderous voice rang out inside his head, and suddenly, Valdus found himself in an empty black space. Beneath his feet was equally dark water-he couldn't see. Who was talking? Why were they talking? He needed to get up. He needed to get up to stop Ambrose; voices rang out all around Valdus-they sounded like different people. It was odd.

"Who're you?" Valdus questioned the various voices, and he could've sworn that hushed murmurs and whispers rang out around him.

_'__Get up.'_ one voice spoke. It sounded strangely like his own. _'Get up, you idiot. It isn't good to leave a girl all alone on a battlefield.' _Really? Why would he care about her? She wasn't even his friend. Right?

Valdus scoffed loudly. "She can take care of herself. She's a Draconian, and a lot stronger than you.

_'__No one is stronger than us.' _Another voice rang out, this time, it was hoarse and raspy; deafening. Valdus cupped his ears in annoyance, and glared towards the direction the voice came from, which was impossible to pinpoint, considering that he couldn't see.

"Where am I?" He inquired rudimentarily, a puzzled expression on his face.

The first voice came again in response. _'We're in your mind, Valkoor.'_

Valdus raised an eyebrow. Valkoor? Who was that? "My name's Valdus."

The next voice-the one that sounded like Valdus-came again, roaring through the corridor. _'We're in your mind, Val. Are you stupid?' _

Valdus opened his mouth to protest, but then another voice spoke. _'We're you, Valdus. You're in your mind right now, on the verge of death. We can return you. Safely. We're going to show you something before you leave.'_

"What is it?"

_'__You'll see. Farewell, grandson-" _And at once, the black space around Valdus disappeared, replaced by a desolate battleground, littered with the bodies of opponents. Four warriors stood in front of him, and Valdus recognized them instantly as the people from the book he was reading a day before the war.

_Legends of Thalomir_. It seemed instantaneous; natural...but it wasn't. The voice that came from Valdus' throat wasn't his own albeit the feeling. "Frase, Jilak..." Valdus thundered. "Valkoor, my son...and you-Artur-you dog scum." Valdus concluded, spitting out the last of his sentence with some repulsiveness. It sounded disgusting.

Valdus felt himself pout mockingly as the warriors rushed at him, and Frase roared in anger. "One battle is not a war! Shed your blood for me, Thalomir!"

Thalomir?

That wasn't his name. It was the name of-

Realization dawned on Valdus as he began to realize what was going on. He had inherited his great ancestor, Thalomir's power, like his predecessors. They were now in his mind, and Thalomir was one of them. He was teaching Valdus-in the short amount of time he had slipped away from reality from-how to control the powers he'd inherited.

"Thanks." Valdus whispered before the scene before him faded away, and he glanced up, his red eyes glowing. As Valdus slipped out of the rock, he felt his spine. Oh? He was healed. No matter. He set off at a sprint towards Ambrose, whose hand was now glowing, and surprised himself by arriving in less than half a minute despite being so far away. Valdus' rich chocolate skin shined in the light, and his voice seemed to rumble as he uttered one word.

"Stop."

The light seemed to dim from Ambrose's hand as if it was hesitating, like he was now. He began to speak, a slight smirk on his face, but had no time to react as Valdus' foot came in contact with the side of his wizened face, splattering rocks and dirt on to his pure white beard and throwing him to the side. Shina glanced at Valdus, and her eyes widened. Instead of being fully transformed and looking like a creature straight from the depths, various parts of his body were transformed, giving him the appearance of an armor cloaked wizard. Wispy black guards coated his shins and kneecaps, armguards coating his forearms and shoulder plates covering his shoulders. His hair seemed to have grown slightly longer, but that was something for him to confirm later. Even so, his long, lower-back-length hair billowed behind him, and he glanced at Shina, a grin on his face, his red eyes glowing.

"Hey." Valdus spoke, the grin still plastered on his face. "You gonna help me out here, Shina? This is Ambrose we're talking about here."

Shina seemed to be in a daze, which she shook off quickly, regaining her composure, lightning bolts _flying_ wildly around her. Her orange-blond hair that reached her lower back flew behind her, and she looked reminiscent of an angel. "Let's end this, Valdus. And you finally know how to say my name correctly."

Valdus chuckled slightly, shook his head before adopting a serious look. "Yeah."

Ambrose was on his feet now, and the vast magical energy had returned, and Ambrose himself was positively seething. The smoke that billowed from his figure became a glowing visage of armor, before solidifying and grafting on to his body. The armor was a part of him now, and Valdus highly doubted that it could be taken off through any other means besides death. He inhaled deeply. "Ambrose, you're twisted. You can't let the past affect you now." Valdus exclaimed hopefully.

"Is that any way to talk to your elders?" Ambrose exclaimed, firing a white blast of magical energy at Valdus, which he swiftly sidestepped. Valdus whistled in mock appreciation, and shook his head sarcastically. Ambrose continued to fire at Valdus, who responded by dodging each blast comically, exaggerating his every move. The Necromancer nodded to Shina, who thrust her free hand towards Ambrose, lightning snaking from her open palm towards him. Ambrose merely shrugged it off, but the distraction was all Valdus needed.

Valdus spread his arms wide, and ebony smoke began to free itself from his body, a vast output of Shadow Magic surrounding his arms. Valdus glanced at Shina. "Shina, I'm going to use all my mana. I need you to strike when I do." Shina merely nodded as the Shadow Magic that had been surrounding his arms transformed into a bubble, encasing himself and Ambrose in darkness. "Just you and me, headmaster," Valdus exclaimed, a grin etched on to his features.

Ambrose glared menacingly. "Let's settle this boy. Like men." Without waiting for a response, the Archmage rushed towards the Necromancer, overtaking him swiftly, and the duo traded blows, Valdus taking most of the damage due to Ambrose's Arcane armor. Kicks were traded, ankles crashing together, both fighters reeling backwards in pain before striking at one another again, fists and feet blazing.

"I hate your armor," Valdus spoke, throwing a punch directed towards Ambrose's face. The old man, despite his age, dodged quickly, and tossed Valdus off balance with a kick to the ankles, and silenced him with a swift heel to the stomach. Valdus resisted the overwhelming urge to retch, instead aiming his boot at the man's chest, attempting to knock him over, but to no avail. Opting for a new approach, Valdus gritted his teeth, and sliding himself between Ambrose's legs, clenched his fists, and the bubble of darkness seemed to brighten slightly before dimming once more. Ambrose raised an eyebrow, scowling at the boy. Nothing had happened. Yet. "And to think that you became strong-" The old, wizened man was cut off as the oxygen was literally sucked from his throat, and he began to suffocate, his arcane armor vanishing, dissipating as the mana was also sucked from his body.

Valdus panted. He felt his hair grow longer, felt his body weaken. He knew this would happen. Since he wasn't Thalomir, Valdus would age a year every time he used his ancestor's ability. The recoil was dangerous, but it would be worth it. Valdus knew that his power would be his downfall one day, but sacrifices were always necessary during war, right? The Necromancer could feel his mana being drained, but so was Ambrose's. Valdus couldn't take it any longer, and hoped Shina was ready. He'd already aged a year. Valdus sighed in exhaustion, and collapsed on the ground, the ebony bubble fading away like dust in the wind. Now, Shina. Now was your chance. Kill him so I don't have to. End his suffering.

Shina took her chance to strike. She ran at Ambrose, who was too busy recovering to anticipate or see her attack; Shina drove the side of her hammer into the side of the old man's skull, knocking of his nightcap-like cowl, and throwing him to the side. The wizened, defeated old man fell to the ground in a crumpled heap, and lay still. Shina towered over him, her gaze menacing.

"You did this to my people." She spoke, and Ambrose would've screamed if he could-electricity was now coursing through his veins and frying every circuit in his body.

"By the time Wizard City found Ambrose's body, Valdus was collapsed on the ground, and Shina knelt next to him, her eyes closed, her head knelt down in prayer. The Draconians were alive, but most were either critically injured, or slightly scathed. It took months for Wizard City to overcome the death of their greatest headmaster, Ambrose, but eventually, things were sorted out, and a treaty was signed between the leader of Dragonspyre and the new headmaster of Wizard City." Valdus exclaimed.

Shina raised an eyebrow. "Was it really that simple?" She and Valdus were sitting in his tiny dorm room, Shina occupying the bed, and Valdus occupying a nearby chair. He handed her a glass of water, and sat back down. He was silent for a while, observing her, before glancing out the window at the turquoise sky and the clouds that dotted the blue abyss. He sighed and smiled again.

"In essence, no. But to be honest, I'm glad everything worked out." He grinned at her, and she smiled-Shina hardly ever smiled-but she smiled all the same, and Valdus' grin grew impossibly wider. "I'm glad you came to visit." He exclaimed.

Shina glanced at him and nodded in understanding. "I'm glad I came to visit, too."

Valdus grunted in response, and glanced at the clock floating beside his bed. "Well, I think I have to be getting to Unicorn Way-some patrolling issue. You can stay if you like." He suggested. He knew she had her duties to attend to, but still...he hadn't seen her in five months, and absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? Not that he was implying anything.

Shina shook her head, and downed the water he'd given her, picking up her warhammer from where she'd perched it on the floor.. "I best be going as well. Good luck on your patrol." She smiled again.

Valdus smirked, and held the door open for her. "Suit yourself, dragon."

"Don't get cocky, boy." Shina thundered in response, waving her warhammer threateningly.

The widest of grins spread across Valdus' face as he closed the door behind him, stepping out of his dorm room, and welcomed the day before him with a content sigh and a wave to the sun. A new start. Things were going to get interesting.

A young boy, who appeared to be a few years younger dashed past Valdus towards the tunnel leading to Ravenwood, almost knocking the older boy out of the way. Valdus gripped the boy by his collar, yanking him backwards. "Watch where you walk, kid-" Valdus began, but paused abruptly. The boy squirmed in his iron grip, and glanced back at Valdus, whose red eye was shining in contrast to his stygian hair. The boy wasn't even a boy at all. In fact, the boy was a Mooshian-a cow-a _cow_. Yes, not even human, complete with porcelain skin covered in stygian black spots, a rose-pink nose and slightly chapped lips; they looked like they were meant to be used to chew grass.

"You're from Mooshu...?" Valdus questioned, surprised.

The boy shot a glare at the Necromancer. "Yes! Just let me go! I have class with Professor Drake in an hour, and he hates when I'm late!" The boy squirmed and writhed a bit more before Valdus hesitantly let the boy begin run off. Valdus didn't remember there being any other races as wizards. This was crazy. Valdus bit mentally slapped himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. Mental slaps always work. He wasn't dreaming. This couldn't be real, though. Since when-?

When the Mooshian was only a few feet away, Valdus seemed to shake himself from his daze, and called after the cow-boy, "Wait! I-I thought wizards were only human?"

The boy scoffed as he shouted back, "Where've you been? After the new headmaster was elected, anything became possible! Don't you get it? _Anything is possible!_"

Valdus stood in silence, his mind attempting to process what the boy had just said. A Mooshian? In Wizard City? No way! But yet, there the boy was, running off to learn magic. As Valdus glanced around him, he noticed that all kinds of races were mingling...peacefully. Draconians were chatting with a vast number of wizards-humans, Marleybonians and Mooshians-all sorts of races. Valdus found his jaw hanging open in pure shock, and closed it quickly. Wow. This new change was so...involving. It included each and every race from every world-Valdus even saw the bears from Grizzleheim trotting around, voices rumbling at the sight of wizards. The boy was right, wasn't he?

Anything was possible. "

The young boy sitting in front of Valdus giggled childishly and clapped his hands together in glee. Talon Bloodbane, Valdus' son, was two years old, and could walk-albeit with some difficulty-and talk, though it was somewhat hard to understand him. Valdus grinned charismatically as Talon yelled, "Anuhva un, duaddy!" and giggled once more, his dark skin a stark contrast to his small white teeth.

"Another one, kid?" Valdus asked, pouting mockingly.

Talon giggled softly, and attempted to crawl closer to his father, his hand slipping as he rolled over, the boy's red eyes locked with his father's. Talon had already inherited Thalomir's power-it was only a matter of time before it came into play. Valdus sighed, and shook his head. He just couldn't get enough of the kid.

"Alright, alright, you win. Another one, then." Valdus picked his son up, hefting him onto his lap, and began the story.

"Way before you were born, before I was born, my grandfather was welcomed into the world."

* * *

**Majestic: I hope you enjoyed that! I lied about it having nothing to do with Talon. Whatever. Anyways, please review-if I can get this to enough reviews, then I will be writing the third chapter of DASR faster and then I can work more on LoT. Credits to BuBu for helping me with this universe and credits to Firestorm N. for helping BuBu create her reimagined version of the Spiral. Hope you guys enjoyed!**


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